


There for you

by Sedona_Eats_Ortolans



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst to Fluff, Fluff, Hannibal cooks for Will, Hannibal fluff, Hannigraham fluff, M/M, Nightmares, hannibal being sweet, hannigram fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24833179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sedona_Eats_Ortolans/pseuds/Sedona_Eats_Ortolans
Summary: Will has a nightmare, Hannibal wakes up and is there to comfort him. Angst to fluff type beat. Hannibal basically being adorable. My second ever Hannibal fic, pls be nice <3
Relationships: Hannibal/Will, hannibal x will, hannigraham, hannigram
Comments: 4
Kudos: 92





	There for you

Opera music played somewhere in the background, echoing around Will’s mind like the walls of a cathedral. When he opened his eyes, however, he wasn’t in any religious building- he was in a clearing in the middle of a field.   
How did I get here?  
He turned in a full circle, eyes searching for any clue. He was alone. The field itself became more and more familiar as he stared at the ground around him.   
His head was pounding by the time he recognized it.  
The Copycat Killer of Garrett Jacob Hobbs took his first victim here.   
Hannibal killed here; arranged his crime like art for him. Showed Will just a fragment of who he was.   
When he had been there at the investigation, the sky was blue and the sun was bright. Will lifted his head- clouds hovered overhead, an angry gray-black and coming closer together. Thunder boomed in the distance- it was as if a time lapse of a storm was gathered just above his head. Rain started falling. The opera music swelled. Wasn’t this one of Hannibal’s favorite records playing? Will reached out a hand to gather the water from the sky in his hand.   
The rain was dark red.  
Blood, pouring, from the heavens.  
Will opened his mouth to scream, but he couldn’t even hear himself over the sound of thunder, joined by the insistent shaking of the ground beneath him.  
He watched sharpened antlers break through the ground at his feet- like in slow motion they pierced through his chest and lifted him off the ground, his body laid out like that victim of Hannibal’s so long ago. Blood dripped out of his opened lips that let out soundless yells. His head fell back, body limp and broken, and through his upside down view of the world he saw one person appear from the midst of the storm, standing with a smile and a kitchen knife in his hand. Blood covered his face.  
Hannibal, he tried to shout. HANNIBAL.  
—  
Will woke up, a scream on his lips as he shot up in bed, eyes gaping open. He wasn’t in the field. He wasn’t in the field.   
For a moment in suspension, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see through fast tears, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t-  
“Will.” Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him into the chest of the calm voice’s owner.  
Hannibal.  
“No, no-“ Will whimpered between broken cries, meekly trying to push him away as the panic from his nightmare poured into reality and gripped him tight in its fist. Hannibal kept his grip strong, shushing him quietly and pulling him closer.   
He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t articulate a thought or image but antlers, stabbing him, claiming him, rooting him to the ground.   
“You’ve had a bad dream. It’s alright, I’m here.” Hannibal sounded so calm, so in control, a hand brushing through his curls, his other tracing small circles against his back. Will fell into that refuge, that promise of protection from the same person he was screaming to be protected from in nightmares.   
It was just a dream.   
It didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like his whole body was seizing up with each desperate sob, his forehead pressed to Hannibal’s shoulder, hands digging into the thin fabric of his shirt, clinging to him like a sailor lost in a storm clings to his sail. He didn’t even notice he had been crying, but when he did it was only because his eyes felt raw and drained. He huddled against Hannibal’s unmoving embrace, shivering and gasping for breath, trying to bring himself out of the hysteria. Hannibal was a silent staple, the rock to support him and guide him back to the waking world.  
“I’m sorry.” He murmured against the nape of Hannibal’s neck. “I’m being ridiculous.”   
“Will,” Hannibal moved, his hands gliding to either side of Will’s face, pulling away enough that they were eye to eye, “never apologize to me.” He tilted his head, a sort of silent ‘okay?’. Will nodded, tipping his forehead against his, brushing his lips with a kiss.  
“Thank you.”   
“You don’t need to thank me, either.” Will let out a soft shuddered laugh, feeling Hannibal’s lips twitch upwards.  
“Then what can I get to do for you?” He said it jokingly, but the moment the words reached the air shared by the two of them they changed, morphed into something bigger. Hannibal’s thumb grazed against Will’s stubble, taking his time before answering.  
“Let me cook for you.”  
“Now?” It couldn’t be later than 3am.  
“Now. Come.” Hannibal seemed to have a newfound spring in his voice. He didn’t even seem tired. He got out of bed, leaving Will feeling cold in his absence, and walked across the room to his closet, no doubt rifling through for a robe. Will smiled to himself, nightmare for the moment exorcised from him by Hannibal’s holiest vows of protection.  
Hannibal tied the maroon robe he selected around himself, and gazed briefly at Will before making his way out the door, words echoing behind him.   
“How does breakfast sound?”   
Will hurried to follow after him, reaching into his drawer of clothes in Hannibal’s wardrobe and pulling on a pair of sweatpants. Though much of his stuff had been moved here during weekends and visits and such, and despite the countless nights he stayed over, he hadn’t completely moved in. There was still the unspoken argument of the dogs- Hannibal’s house was polished and he would hardly tolerate a bunch of strays roaming the halls. Will thought it would be charming; he would have an audience to play the harpsichord to.   
Will padded into the hallway, stretching his arms to the ceiling and running a hand through his hair.   
Walking through Hannibal’s house in the night felt like an intrusion on some seal of deadened silence; he felt as if he should tiptoe down the stairs towards the kitchen.   
By the time he reached the kitchen, pans were already hot and sizzling with varied contents that flooded Will’s senses, along with coffee being made near the corner of the kitchen counter.   
“Morning.” Will said, the lights on reflecting off the pitch black outside. Hannibal emerged from the fridge, holding containers of fruits and some sort of meat.   
“A morning shared only by two.” He set down the food, selecting one of the many knives slotted in his collection and starting to chop. Will couldn’t help but smile at the very sight of him- messy morning hair, voice scratchy, eyes soft. The idea they could be the only ones up for miles was comforting- a little pocket of time just for them.   
“Want to find some music for us, Will? You know where my vinyl collection is. I’ll tell you when breakfast is finished.”   
“I’d love to. Don’t burn anything.” Will added playfully. Despite Hannibal’s back turned to him, he could perfectly depict the sour face he likely made in response to Will’s tease at his cooking- a bold move he might not have dared months ago.   
Will walked down the halls, playing back memories of all those nights they had spent staying up late, drinking wine, listening to Hannibal’s music and fanciful interior design- whether it was a record or live performance on one of his instruments. He reached that grand room filled with all things music, and made his way to the carefully organized drawers of all vinyls, most of them being opera or instrumental music. Will admired Hannibal’s music taste-it was unsurprising that his sophisticated way of life bled into what he entertained himself with. He idly flipped through the records in their plastic sleeves with care, starting with the middle drawer. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he accidentally scratched one.   
He ended up selecting one at random, finding that easier than squinting at long latin titles trying to decipher the mood of the orchestration. In a few moments, delicate and elegant music was flooding the room, no doubt leaking into other rooms of the house.  
Will felt calm- something he never could’ve expected after more time with Hannibal. He felt protected, tucked away in some man made crevice of heaven. He didn’t realize his eyes were closed, perhaps to revel in the music, until he opened them, and saw Hannibal in the doorway, watching him. Will didn’t know how long he had been standing there, observing him with that same look he had since the day they met- analyzing, piercing through his eyes and into the contents of his mind.   
“Lacrimosa Dies Illa. A good choice.” Hannibal noted, holding out one of the two coffee mugs occupying his hands. “The food is done. I hope a less luxurious table set than usual is acceptable.”   
Will paced across the room, taking the outstretched cup from his hands and leaning against the doorframe across from him. The bad dream felt like dust coated along his skeleton, like he had to shake himself free of every fiber within him of the memory now that it had settled.   
“It’ll be perfect.” He responded as more of an afterthought. They shared a small, almost wry smile. Will looked away and raised the cup to his lips. As always, Hannibal could sense the slightest shifts in energies around Will, even if he may not always know why.   
“How do you feel, Will?”  
“I don’t know. I feel...better. The same.” He tried to disguise the desolate idea that he might never feel better- that every nightmare would chase him until his eyes forced open and bled tears- with a small shrug. He took another sip of coffee.   
Hannibal pushed himself off from the door frame, reaching Will in a split second. His hand curved around the side of Will’s face, looking at him directly; Will looked back, and felt that same strange peace- being taken care of, protected.   
“It’s going to get better. Just give it time. You and me, we’ll be okay. Yes?” Hannibal didn’t wait for his answer, leaning over Will pressed against the doorframe, kissing him briefly but softly and lovingly in no way a killer like him should be able to. He tasted like coffee. Will felt like he had to blink the stars out of his eyes as Hannibal turned to walk down the hall, motioning for Will to follow.   
“Let’s have breakfast.”


End file.
